


The Arc of Ascension, Saga 5: That’s Me Trying

by bzarcher, solarbird



Series: Of Gods and Monsters [33]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Background Relationships, Biases, Conditioning, Developing Relationship, Espionage, F/F, Family, Family Drama, Fear, Heartbreak, Memory Alteration, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Oasis (Overwatch), Poly Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Polyamorous Character, Prejudice, Reconciliation, Recovered Memories, Rejection, Talon Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Talon Fareeha "Pharah" Amari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarbird/pseuds/solarbird
Summary: The new gods have risen, ready, at last, to grapple with a world of heroes. Moira O'Deorain herself has been reborn, now made one of the creations her previous self meant to rule, and she works with her wife - the goddess Mercy - and their ensemble of new deities to remake the world, toimproveit... for everyone.Ana Amari has found a way into Oasis. It is a short-lived chance, and must be taken - if it is to be taken - at once. So of course, she goes.Of Gods and Monsters: The Arc of Ascensionis a continuance ofOf Gods and Monsters: The Arc of Creation, a side-step sequel toThe Armourer and the Living Weapon. It will be told in a series of eddas, sagas, interludes, fragments, texts, and cantos, all of which serve their individual purposes. To follow it as it appears,please subscribe to the series.





	The Arc of Ascension, Saga 5: That’s Me Trying

> _Years of silence, not enough._  
>  _Who could blame us, giving up?_  
>  _Above the quiet, there’s a buzz._  
>  _That’s me trying._
> 
> _But I don't want to talk about any of that bad stuff_  
>  _I'd like to explain, but I can't_  
>  _So let's keep things neutral_  
>  _Stick to topics that won't bug us_
> 
> _Then we can sit down at a restaurant_  
>  _Have a look at the menu and talk about it while we eat_  
>  _See, if we never had a problem_  
>  _Then that's what life would be like_  
> 
> 
> _Above the quiet, there’s a buzz._  
>  _That’s me trying._

Oasis wasn’t so far from Egypt, really.

The Shrike had never been terribly welcome in the “model city”, especially after she and Jack had attempted to get inside after Fareeha’s abduction, but an old friend in the Iraqi government had known she had unfinished business, and contacted her when he’d found a way to get her inside.

The window of opportunity was narrow. She didn’t have time to get Jack or grab another partner, or it would have been closed. 

It was probably a foolish decision to go alone... but on the other hand sometimes that was the best way to slip in somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. 

Part of her really didn’t quite know what she was hoping to accomplish. To put a bullet in O’Deorain’s head? To see just what the ‘gods’ were up to? 

She’d justified it to herself as gathering intelligence at least, but if the opportunity to take a shot came, she wouldn’t waste it. Talon had taught her what happened when she hesitated, after all. 

Ana had found an office building with good sightlines on the Ministry of Genetics, and spent two days watching the comings and goings there, trying to get a sense of the routine. Plenty of cars and foot traffic. Occasional visits from official flyers from the other ministries, but surprisingly little else.

She’d almost begun to wonder if O’Deorain had set up a more private facility for herself and the rest of her new family when a flash of golden light caught her eye. She swung her scope over and there was Angela, dressed in a strange combination of professional dress and her Valkyrie suit, launching herself from a balcony that hadn’t been there before, and Fareeha, with her, flying up, and Ana's heart seized, just for a moment, before the soldier in her shoved her forward. The lovers flew up together, then kissed, and separated, going their own ways.

Ana forced herself to look, to work, to be the spy she needed to be. A glance at her... former daughter... revealed less than an examination of the woman who had been her friend, and her daughter's wife. _The wings... the wings, they’re... part of her now. I wonder if O’Deorain did that to her, or if Angela decided to ‘upgrade’ herself afterward?_

She took note of the flight paths. Angela appeared to be commuting over to her clinic, and Fareeha - _no_ , she told herself, _**Pharah**_ \- to the defence ministry, and, having determined that, she turned her attention back to where she had left from. _The window is too big to retract to expose the balcony. Hard light, perhaps?_

Her suspicion was confirmed when a broad window seemed to construct itself, with a slight tinting effect to match the rest of the tower and protect the occupants from the glare of the desert sun. 

_I was a fool_ , Ana growled at herself. _Of course they’d keep their quarters inside the Ministry. Angela and Moira were workaholics **before**. O’Deorain probably requested accommodations when she took the Minister’s position, and just had them expanded._

There had been no sign of Tracer, Widowmaker, or any of the rest, but if she was honest with herself, they were secondary concerns. She slung her rifle to her shoulder and carefully made her way out of the vacant office she’d been using. 

Ana knew where to find her primary targets, now, and the visibility into their apartment would be much better once the sun had set.

\-----

Getting back into the building after a few hours of sleep had been fairly easy, but the climb up to the rooftop had been a bit more demanding on her knees than she wanted to admit.

_I could have told Jack no_ , Ana mused as she picked the lock on the roof access door. _I could have just decided to retire. I could have spent some time in Europe with Reinhardt, or gone back to Canada to see if I could make something work with Sam again. But I decided that continuing to fight was better._

_Would it have been different if I’d decided to rest? Would any of it have even mattered?_

She shook her head beneath her hood and hijab, and went prone before crawling on her knees to the edge of the rooftop, setting up to observe the building.

_If I’d been in London, could I have stopped this before it began?_ A thought, she told herself, for later - or never. She'd made the decisions she'd made, and if they'd been the wrong ones, well - there was nothing for it but to try to make it better, somehow, now. Or at least limit the damage.

The outer layer of the window glowed dimly in the dark of the late evening. The interior view didn't extend far - another wall, translucent, defocusing, possibly hardlight as well, occluded seeing anything further in, with no sign of a door. She could almost imagine seeing a figure moving, the contrast enhancement and image sharpening on her visor turned all the way up - _Angela?_ she wondered, briefly, before returning to her previous introspection. _Do not get maudlin, Shrike, you do not have the luxury of such nonsense now._

But it ate at her, nonetheless. It all did.

"You should've called," she heard her daughter's voice say from behind her. "I'd've taken you out to dinner."

The sniper spun from her prone position, free hand dropping to her pistol, and fired almost as soon as she’d cleared leather. The shot was on target, directly at center of mass, but the woman she’d fired upon raised one arm to bat the sleep dart away with a brief flash of sparks as it hit some kind of shield. "Mother, _please_. That's hardly necessary." She held out a small basket, the top covered with a colourful piece of cloth. "Stakeouts are long, and dull. I brought you a snack. And that's all. I'm unarmed."

The Huntress walked slowly over to her mother, who scrambled up, training her rifle, and sat next to where she had been lying, looking towards her own apartment. "It's a nice view from here. And I like the breeze off the river. Good spot, well chosen."

She pulled out a bit of sangak, and spread some goat cheese across it. "It's a nice night, don't you think?" Taking a bite, she smiled. "I'm glad you came by." She turned, and looked again back at her mother. "Won't you... come sit with me? I've missed you."

"Toying with me, then?" the sniper said, not lowering her rifle. "When did you spot me?"

"When you entered the city. We've been tracking you ever since." She took another bite of the bread, chewed, and swallowed it. "We could've had you arrested at any time, but we didn't want to. Would you please come sit down and talk with your daughter? Can't we have... at least, a truce? For a little while?"

Ana looked at the woman who had been her child, with her gleaming opal eyes. "You are _not_ my daughter.” 

Fareeha’s eyes tightened with pain, and part of Ana’s heart ached as the knife twisted again. “Mother. _Ummi._ Please don’t say that.”

Part of her wanted to retract the mask, to look at the woman in front of her, to show her face, but the rest of her knew that would be a foolish decision. “You sound like her,” Ana admitted. “You wear her face. But you’re no more my daughter than Widowmaker was ever Amélie Lacroix.”

“Widowmaker..." She let out a little heh. " _Danielle..._ was a very different situation.”

"Believing _Danielle_ could be a person is what got us _here_. Is what got Overwatch working with O'Deorain again. Is what got Lena... _changed_. Is what got Winston _dead_ , and is what got you...." She shuddered. "What got my _daughter_... turned into _you_."

“Fareeha Bilaam Amari,” the woman sitting in front of her said quietly. “Angela’s wife. Your daughter.”

Ana’s voice crackled with anger, even through the flattening of the mask. “ _My daughter_ would never have joined Talon!” 

“Is that what you think I’ve done?” Fareeha gestured towards the Ministry building. “What _that_ is?” 

“O’Deorain -”

Fareeha cut her off. “ _Was_ part of Talon. Now... we’re something different.” She looked up at her, the deep pools of her eyes sharp and intelligent. “Most of the _old_ Talon is working with you, last I checked.” She shook her head. “Or maybe you were going to say she altered my mind? Changed my memories?”

Ana felt her jaw drop with disbelief. “You _knew?_ ” 

“I... sort of did, at first.” Fareeha grimaced. “Then I didn’t. But eventually we all learned what she did - or tried to do. What had really happened.” She let out a little sigh as she gestured to the basket again. “She never made me fear you, though. Are you _sure_ you don’t want to sit down?”

Ana didn’t, but she shifted her grip on the rifle, letting it point to the ground, but where it could be easily trained on her target again. “If you know what she did - _saw_ what she did - why are you here? Why help the woman who attacked you? Kidnapped you?”

"Moira wasn't even there, ummi."

"Do not dissemble. The woman whose orders were they acting under."

"Angela's, you mean?"

"Angela's?!"

Fareeha smiled. "Surprised? Moira didn't even want to bring me in. My wife missed me, and insisted it happen, and I'm glad she did."

"Your... wife... did _that_ to you... and your trainees... and you're _glad?!_ "

"It is a very frightening video, I must admit - though I didn't realise you were all still so obsessed with it." Fareeha laughed a little, shaking her head. "But to answer your question - I am still here because I believe in what we're doing. Just like Angela does, just like Lena does, just like... we all do."

Ana suppressed a shudder, and snorted, instead. “Taking over the world?”

” _Saving_ the world.” Fareeha said as she stood, her voice so sincere it made Ana’s soul ache. “Protecting the world. Just like you did.” 

“We did nothing like _this._ ”

“A lot of omnics might disagree,” Fareeha pointed out. “But... if that’s not enough of a reason for you?” She took a step forward, and put a hand to her chest. “Because I’m _happy_ here. Because _she’s_ happy here. Happier than she’s been in a long, long time. Because for better or worse... I know who I am. Because I’m standing and doing things on my own terms, and not trying to live up to a legend you never wanted me to compare myself to in the first place.” 

She sucked in a sharp breath. “That is _not_ what I wanted for… you. Ever.”

Fareeha nodded. “I never said it was your fault. I was the one constantly measuring myself against you, even after…” Fareeha looked away, this time, and took a moment to compose herself. “Even after you came back. But I’ve learned, I think. Finally.”

Ana didn’t have an answer to that. 

“I was dead, you know.” Fareeha looked at her again, and despite the polarized shield of her mask it seemed like she was making perfect eye contact. “Not very long - under six seconds, before Angela was able to bring me back - but still. Between that, and everything else... it’s given me some perspective.” She offered her hand again. “And I’d really like to give my mother a hug.”

Ana deliberately took a step back towards the stairwell. “No.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Fareeha said softly. “We really don’t. If you don’t want to be a part of what we’re doing, that’s fine. I understand that.” She gave a self-depreciating little chuckle. “Honestly, I’d probably try to discourage you if you did. You’ve more than earned a break. But... I’d really like to talk to you again. So would Angela.” Her grin turned a bit crooked. “We’d probably tell Moira to stay home, though.” 

Ana felt her brows knit. “The three of you…?” 

“Not... exactly? We’re both married to Angela - that’s legal here, before you ask - but…” Fareeha shrugged. “She has her moments. Especially since we helped her through a few... realizations. I honestly don’t know if we have a word for what we have. But she’s a part of my life, and I’m glad she’s there.”

Ana felt ill. She'd almost - almost - let herself start to think that maybe, underneath those eyes, her daughter, or some part of her, might still live. But for her to so casually allude to... "...you _changed_ her. Didn't you. Like she changed you."

Fareeha snorted, with humour. " _I_ didn't - I'm not a doctor. But yes - she'd always experimented on herself, first, and her upgrades were... how did Angela put it? A _riesendurcheinander?_ And she agreed, so they put together a plan to fix her. And that's when we found out what she'd done, and so, we made sure we all knew the truth - and that she did, too." She smiled, again, thinking of it. "She's still apologising, but we've forgiven her."

"And that's all it is, to you?"

"...what else would it be?"

"If you were still my daughter - if you were still even _human_ \- you wouldn't have to ask. You'd know."

" _Ummi_..."

"Don't call me that," the sniper said, backing away.

"Mother, why are you..."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Shrike shouted through her mask, her voice shaking despite the roar. "I don't know who, I don't even know _what_ you are. Not anymore."

"I'm your _daughter_."

"You... are... not... my... daughter. She is dead. And you're no gods, either. You are... you are _monsters_."

"Don't you know what a god is, mother?" the younger woman said softly. "A god _is_ a monster... one that you can placate."

She sighed, looking a little sad, a little deflated, as the older woman edged towards the stairwell. "I thought... I'd _hoped_ we were getting somewhere, but I guess that’s not going to happen tonight. Keep the basket, I was serious about that, and... you don't have to rush on your way out. We'll leave you alone - take your time, I can recommend some restaurants, maybe you'll... change your mind. At least, think about it. Please."

Fareeha took two steps back, gave her mother one last look, and let herself fall backwards, over the edge. 

Ana rushed forward despite herself, and watched as a Raptora suit somehow assembled itself around Fareeha in midair, the parts almost seeming to emanate from within her before the vernier thrusters fired, and the goddess began to ascend. 

By the time Pharah turned in midair to take one last look at the rooftop, Ana had already disappeared into the stairwell, making her way down and away as quickly as she could.

She’d left the basket behind.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third instalment of _Of Gods and Monsters: The Arc of Ascension_. To follow this story, [subscribe to the series via this link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/972024), rather than to the individual works.


End file.
